


The Moments In Between

by Becky_J_1022



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: I don't really know tbh, I tried to keep the smut out of it but there is a little smut I'm sorry I tried, It's not explicit though, M/M, and I think it qualifies as fluff?, basically this is Adam and Ronan learning each other, this is basically a character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becky_J_1022/pseuds/Becky_J_1022
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nights have always belonged to Ronan. The days have always belonged to Adam. In the moments in between, they find each other and teach each other how to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moments In Between

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fluff. I don't know if it was successful or not but I only put the barest suggestion of smut in here so I consider it growth. Thanks, as always, to Kelly and Alejandra, the best encouragers and enablers and betas ever.

The night belonged to Ronan.

The gentle, eerie orange glow of a single lamppost in a silent parking lot. The distant sound of an unseen car, its tires spinning stories of unknown destinations and possibilities. The steady beat of crickets, so constant and comforting that they become indistinguishable from silence. The heavy weight of carrying the world alone while everyone else sleeps. The exhale of a long day, the pause before the next breath.

This was his kingdom. 

Ronan lived for the night. He found the light of midday to be too harsh and too judging, casting his flaws into sharp relief to pool like shadows at his feet. How he hated the tedium of the day, boring people going to boring jobs and boring classes, everyone silently agreeing to play along with the mandates of social expectations.

After all, daytime was no place for a dreamer.

To Ronan, everything felt over-bright, like a veil was cast over the true world during the day, shiny and flimsy. And every night, he dug his fingers into its edges and ripped it back, revealing the truth of the world, reveling in the feeling of life being poured back into his bones.

Some nights, Ronan would lie in bed at Monmouth, music crashing through him, waiting for sleep to steal him away. Some nights, he would wander out to Gansey and his tiny Henrietta, asking for company in the only way he knew how, in the silent language Gansey spoke fluently. And some nights, of course, he drove. 

But on the nights he dreamt, the errant light from the lamppost outside gathered and twisted, dancing playfully through his fingers and filling his chest. The squeal of tires and the hum of crickets entwined to form unearthly music, flooding through his blood and beating straight to his heart. He found that he could shed the weight of loneliness as easily as he could a blanket, tossing it, forgotten, into a corner-- and the world felt like it was his, just for this moment, just for this night, just for forever. He raked his hands through the stars, letting them fall from his palms like diamonds. He swam through the blue-black of midnight and watched it gather like water on his skin. He dreamt himself wings made of laughter, made of wind, made of light, and with them he raced time, a sprint to see which of them could fly faster.

And when he awoke with an unknown dream cradled in his outstretched hand, he wished he could hold his breath forever.

********

The day belonged to Adam. 

A list, ever-growing, of things needing to be done, cataloged in the back of his mind. The smell of car oil, heavy and heady around him. The feel of book pages under his fingertips, crisp and satisfying, Adam's passage to becoming anyone other than his father. Laughs and shouts around him, echoing off the stone walls of Aglionby, a reminder of his youth when he felt the weight of years that did not belong to him on his shoulders. 

This was his domain. 

It wasn't that Adam didn't like nighttime—it was that he didn't have the privilege of enjoying it. When night came, when Adam's obligations were temporarily appeased until the next day, he had no choice but to allow sleep to overtake him. Adam inhaled sleep like whales inhaled air, gulping down great swaths of it whenever the opportunity presented itself before diving back to the depths of the waking world.

Adam was never really awake. He knew, objectively, that people were supposed to be energized after they slept, that they were supposed to wake refreshed to face their lives with new strength. If he had ever felt that way, he didn't remember it. But the bright light of the sun, the bustle of others moving around him, the structure of class, class, lunch, class, class, work, work—well, he was able to imitate wakefulness well enough.

Sometimes, he even convinced himself. 

On the days he thought he wouldn't make it, when his limbs were heavy with exhaustion, he could feel Cabeswater lacing through his veins, holding him up, coaxing him to _just get through one more day, one more class, three more hours, one last drive home, then you can sleep._ His restless mind would quiet as leaves wove themselves through his thoughts, brushing tenderly through his consciousness. The smell of oil would be overtaken by the damp scent of moss. He would find his fingertips resting on cool, rich soil, and he would thread his fingers into it, the roots of the forest becoming his own, grounding him. Sound would rush back into his left ear as trees whispered to him, as birds sang songs that tangled through time, holding promises of tomorrow and memories of yesterday and the infinite possibilities of _now._

Adam was a magician, and he wasn't one to waste possibility. 

**********

In the moments in between, they found each other.

Princes of opposing territories, they crashed together, sparks illuminating a dark sky. At first, it was impossible to imagine that the two of them could coexist without destroying each other, vying for a future that neither believed they deserved. But as time dipped and swayed around them, eddying around their ankles, flowing back and forth, it became clearer and clearer. 

How mesmerizing it would be when streaks of day shot through the velvet black of early morning. How lovely it would be when the softness of night crept up on the setting sun.

How wondrous they would be when they finally allowed themselves to come together.

***************

The first night, at dusk, Ronan watched the fireflies at the Barns flare to life, winking in and out of the fields, a farewell party to the retreating day. Ronan had always thought that darkness chased the sun away, billowing through it like oil spilled through the sky. But that night, he thought that maybe the sun was merely trailing the darkness behind it like a cloak, leading the night onward, the two constant companions in a never-ending chase through time. 

When Adam took him by the hand and led him inside, Ronan thought he might understand why the night followed so obediently.

In the fading glow of dusk, Ronan reminded Adam what it meant to feel awake. 

Ronan counted Adam's freckles with his lips, soft and electrifying on Adam's skin. Adam forgot to keep track of the minutes, forgot to take stock of his precious hours of sleep, letting them fall to the floor to be gathered in the morning. This was not the bitter sacrifice of a night spent studying, nor the careful allotting of extra night hours at the factory. No, for the first time since he could remember, Adam threw his sleep to the side freely, a frugal saver making an indulgent purchase, consequences be damned. 

As the light failed entirely, Ronan brought Adam alive, luring Adam's breath from his lungs, singing fire into Adam's blood, a resurrectionist as well as a dreamer. Adam's heart beat to the pulse of the ley line, stirring in his chest, a caged animal lifting its head to sniff at the possibility of freedom. 

Darkness unfurled around them, and Ronan taught Adam what it was to truly love the night. The sound of a gasp torn from unsteady lungs. The gleam of bare skin in the cold glow of starlight. The way the softest touch feels like fire when the sense of sight has been eliminated from the game. The way it's so very easy to allow yourself to be undone when the world is not watching. The way it's so very easy to let go. 

Adam let go, and there was no one to witness it but the stars. 

******

Ronan should have known that Adam, ever the perfect student, was a fast learner. 

Very quickly, Ronan found that he was now a guest in his own kingdom, no longer in control. He gave up his lonely throne with gladness. Adam's fingertips trailed sunbeams over his throat, over his collarbone, over his stomach, memorizing him in a map of touch. There was no exhaustion in the graze of Adam's teeth at his jaw, no hesitation in the whispers at his ear, no signs of sleep in the electric line of Adam's body above him. Adam had adjusted quickly to this sleepless night, an expert at adaptation.

Ronan had always loved to dream about light. He had never guessed that he could find it while he was awake, too.

Ronan forgot to bear witness to all of his favorite parts of the night, unable to move his senses past the feeling of Adam tracing his tattoo with his lips. The fireflies went dark as Adam coaxed light into Ronan's veins, building and building until Ronan was blinded by it. The crickets slowly went silent as the sound of Ronan's heartbeat became its own music, stuttering in erratic stanzas through his ears. The darkest part of night rolled in, the time when it's so easy to feel alone, to feel like you're the last person in the world. It was a feeling that Ronan both coveted and detested....but tonight he didn't care if there was anyone else in the world. His entire existence became this room, this bed, these sheets, this boy, this _night._ He was not alone. He didn't want to be. 

He would beg at the feet of the sun for more. For it to forget to come up. Just this once. 

**********  
Time was entirely fluid here, and so days or minutes or hours or lifetimes passed, twisting and curling around them like an island in a forgotten stream. Ronan felt more than saw when Adam drifted to sleep. Adam's chest rose and fell under Ronan's hand like the swell of the ocean, rhythmic and soft and comforting. Adam's breath brushed Ronan's throat. Ronan couldn't think of anything more astonishing than Adam Parrish, asleep here next to him, outlined in some faint light that drifted in from the window.

This night...this night had surpassed all others. As Ronan let himself give in to sleep, he dared his dreams to do better.

********* 

Dawn announced itself in a cacophony of birdsong and a flood of soft light. Adam opened his eyes, waiting for his to-do list to unroll in his mind, waiting for the quiet knot of stress that constantly lived below his rib cage to curl awake. But instead, as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, Adam felt contentment settle into his bones. He had gotten so little sleep, and yet, for the first time in ages, he didn't feel tired. 

Adam was beginning to think that the kind of exhaustion he usually felt had little or nothing to do with sleep. 

Turning to face the brightening horizon, Adam's eyes were distracted by the sleeping boy next to him. What a wonder it was to see Ronan Lynch unguarded. Adam followed the soft curve of his mouth, slightly open in sleep, remembering the warmth of it on his skin. His eyes trailed to the sharp edge of Ronan's jawline, remembering the sound of Ronan's gasp when Adam turned his attention there. Ronan's eyelashes were a spray of gold in the new light, ridiculously long against his cheek. To see Ronan asleep was to admire a panther with its claws sheathed. You knew it could hurt you, but, God, that made the sight even more thrilling.

Adam watched Ronan sleep, wondering what his dreams held for him. For a moment, he was overtaken with envy--Ronan could escape this place whenever he wanted, close his eyes and drift away to sift through untold possibilities. But then, moving his eyes beyond Ronan to the fields outside the windows, Adam found that he didn't want to escape this place. Henrietta no longer seemed like such a trap.

The days were bright, the nights were exhilarating, and he found that his soul no longer wanted to run.

**********

The first morning, Adam showed Ronan that sunlight didn't have to be harsh and unforgiving. Sometimes, when it fell just right, when it pooled like molten gold across a sleepy bed, daytime could be soft and hazy and slow.

When he had woken Ronan that morning, trailing his fingers over the curve of Ronan's ear before leaning in to kiss his jaw, he had been astounded at how quickly Ronan's face changed. As he opened his eyes to squint at the sunlight, the sharp edges that Adam was used to returned. Adam couldn't help but smile as Ronan started to mutter, the words indistinct but the general tone unmistakable. 

Ronan turned, burying his face in Adam's neck and throwing the sheet over his head to block out the light. 

By the time Adam finally succeeded in coaxing Ronan back out from under it, the sun had risen high enough to soak them entirely in its glow. Lazy moments stretched out between them, strung like molasses across the sheets. Adam laid gentle kisses along Ronan's shoulders, unhurried and reassuring. Ronan found that his distaste for the waking world was lessened here, when Adam was next to him. The light was so much less jarring. Without school hovering over him like a threat, without the frustration of being surrounded by people but never having a true interaction, without the urge to escape the meaninglessness drone of wealth and lies, everything felt so much more... _real._

Ronan kept his edges sharp because the world was sharper. It demanded him to be armed against it. He had once been allowed to be softer, to stand naively behind the protection of love, but those days were long past. Except....as Adam regarded him, tracing patterns into his skin, brushing his lips in slow whispers against his ear, Ronan saw that the world wasn't always a weapon aimed to wound. 

This bright morning sang to a part of him that he had thought was gone forever, a part of him that had been stolen with his father's life. He found innocence tangled in Adam's sleep-mussed hair. Purity glinting in Adam's quiet eyes. Wonder echoing in the gentle laughs and smiles that swept between them. Somehow, the daylight that usually exposed him in all the worst ways had uncovered a fundamental version of Ronan Lynch that had been lost in the bitter haze of sadness and anger, a key part of himself that he had missed more than he knew. 

Ronan turned back towards the light. It wasn't as harsh as he remembered. 

********

The afternoon stretched out before them like a promise. Adam had a rare day off, nowhere to be but here besides Ronan. Ronan was buoyant, more full of life than Adam had ever seen him in the daytime, glints of mischief and joy sparking in his eyes. Adam had seen something like this in him before, but it had always come as Ronan was getting restless in the evening, when Ronan was looking for something everyone else hoped he would never find. This was a distant cousin to that, whatever you got when you took pure energy and removed the destruction from it. 

Happiness. That's what Adam was seeing in Ronan. He stopped to admire how good it looked on him, full and open in the blaze of the afternoon heat. Ronan caught his gaze and, smiling deviously, he held up his hand, the keys to the BMW flashing in the sun. 

Ronan drove them up into the mountains, speeding around curves as his music and the sunshine wove together around them both, a tapestry of asphalt and dreams. Adam felt free, more free than he had in months. The wind whipped across his face, and he closed his eyes, letting the weight of his responsibilities be stripped away by it. The day was Adam's kingdom, but he ruled it only out of necessity. With Ronan beside him, Adam pictured days filled not just with school and work and never-ending responsibilities, but also with adventures and laughter and time wasted frivolously with no thought of stealing it back. 

A kingdom like that would be worth inheriting. Would be worth sharing. And Adam was pretty sure he knew who he wanted to share it with.

He turned to watch Ronan as he drove. Ronan had his hand out the window, catching the wind in his palm and letting the sun drape over him like silk, a fierce smile playing on his lips. They wound up the mountainside, emerging at last in a clearing at the top, the deep green of summer forests spanning in all directions around them. Ronan sprang from the car, spreading his arms and tilting his head up to the sky, laughing. Adam had the strange but confident impression that, in some versions of this timeline, Ronan wore wings, unable to be constrained by something as unremarkable as gravity.

His energy was contagious, a wildfire set to gasoline, nothing but kindling in sight. 

A spark landed on Adam's skin, and Adam let himself burn.

********

Time slipped through the rifts in the hot summer air, trickling away to be lost in the Virginia hills. Days and nights bled together, two territories merging in a captivating explosion of starlight and sunbeams.

Ronan taught Adam to love the sound of the crickets outside the window at two AM, a sound so inherently "summer"that it was hard to believe other seasons even existed. Adam taught Ronan to love the feel of grass under his back and sun on his face, and the way the unpredictable time on the ley line seemed to stop entirely when they shared breaths through soft and insistent lips. Sometimes they stayed up late into the night at Monmouth, filling the gaps in the sounds of midnight brakes with the imagined adventures of strangers, stories they wove together with laughter and longing. Sometimes they would sprawl on the floor, Ronan listening to music while he sat against the base of his bed, Adam resting his head on Ronan's legs as he read or communed quietly with Cabeswater, the late morning light filtering in through the warped panes of the old factory. Ronan loved the way the orange glow of the streetlights danced between Adam's freckles in the night. Adam loved the way sunlight dripped onto Ronan's eyelashes in the day, the drops of gold glistening there like captive stars. 

Innumerable dawns arose to find them a tangled mess of limbs and slumber, foreheads pressed together, one or the other waking to watch the other sleep in the pure first light of morning. Uncountable dusks witnessed them running through fields of fireflies, laughter coating the grass like dew, chasing dreams and hopes and each other into the fading light. 

The sun set every evening, content with the knowledge that the night would keep them safe and loved. The darkness retreated each morning, filled with the certainty that the day that followed would embrace them in new adventures and joys. 

That summer, they owned the nights and ruled the days.  
That summer, they were in love.  
That summer, they were kings.


End file.
